The Mortys and their Stories
by HopeTheCrazyCat
Summary: Part 11 of "Entricked Fates" series: Side stories to "The Lines Between Ricks and Mortys" (please read that one first). Please check inside chpaters for warnings.
1. Chapter 1: Morticia

AN: Side stories to "The Lines Between Ricks And Mortys".  
Please read the second chapter of "The Lines Between Ricks and Mortys" first before reading this to avoid spoilers!  
Anyways, this little fanfic will tell the background stories of the Mortys that Rick C-137 catches in "The Lines Between Ricks and Mortys" and will be updated alongside it. That way, it won't take up any space in the main story and unnecessarily bore any readers that don't care so much about their backgrounds.

Warnings: abuse (emotionally and physically), angst/hurt/comfort

* * *

**The Mortys and their Stories – Chapter 1: Morticia**

When her grandfather had moved in with them, Morticia didn't know what to think of him.  
Her mother was so happy to have her father back in her life again after he had left her when she was still just a child. So, Morticia guessed that if her mother was happy that she should be happy, too.  
Yet, she still found it weird that he just suddenly appeared out of nowhere after so many years of absence and not even contacting her once in all the time.

However odd that was though, Morticia also couldn't help but find her grandfather interesting.  
He's was quite eccentric, but not only that. He was a scientist and not the normal kind, but like a mad genius kind of one.  
Not soon after he had moved in with them, he had claimed the garage as his workshop and soon there were shelves filled with the weirdest inventions.  
Morticia would lie if she said that all the stuff that he worked on didn't pique her interest.  
So, curious as she was, she wanted to get to know her grandfather a bit more.  
She just wished that he would just let her.

Morticia didn't know why, but Rick seemed to dislike her.  
Whenever she would enter the garage, he would try to kick her out again and the few times when he didn't, he just acted as if she wasn't there. When she would ask about any of his inventions, he would ignore her and he also refused to ever take her with him on one of his adventures to alien planets.

For a while, Morticia wondered if it was because she was a girl, but seeing as her grandfather treated her big sister, Summer, completely different and even allowed her to travel with him on a few occasions, it couldn't be her gender.  
She really wondered why Rick disliked her this much since she could not recall ever having done something that could have offended him.  
In fact, he had acted coldly towards her from the moment that he had laid his eyes on her.

She wondered so much about it that she even asked her mother why Rick was like that, but Beth only answered "Your grandpa is a good man, so, it must be something that you are doing."

Morticia honestly had no idea what it was that she was doing wrong. After thinking long and hard about it and still not reaching a conclusion, she decided in the end to just ask Rick what the problem was.

With fluttering nerves, she dared to go into the garage where her grandfather was sitting like usual on his workbench and working on some contraption.  
Morticia briefly cleared her throat to make her presence known, but Rick kept working as if he didn't know that she was there.  
Trying to ignore the sting from being ignored and focusing on the task at hand, she began to speak up.

"Rick? Why do you not like me? What's the problem? Is it—am I doing something wrong?"

Her grandfather suddenly stopped on what he was working and actually turned around to look at his granddaughter.

"You wanna know what's wrong?! Y-you wanna know what the problem is?! You are the problem, Morticia! You not being a Morty is the problem!" he yelled harshly at her. "It's really no surprise that the Rick of this dimension killed himself. I'm really tempted, too. Those damn burickrats at the Citadel completely screwed me over with this one."

"W-what? I don't understand…" Morticia replied faintly.

The girl was confused. What did her grandpa mean that she was not a Morty? And the Rick of this dimension killed himself? She didn't get it.

Rick took a sigh before he went to explain "There are infinite dimensions with infinite possibilities, which means that in a lot of dimensions a Rick exists. And most of these Ricks have a Morty. I used to have one, too before he got killed. That wasn't my fault though. If he had listened to me that wouldn't have happened." Rick was gesturing wildly with his hands, getting very defensive all of a sudden.

"Anyways-" he continued. "-I left and went to the Council of Ricks and applied to get myself a new Morty and they relocated me here. But look what I got. Instead of a Morty I got you!"

With an accusing finger, he pointed at Morticia as if it were her fault somehow.  
The girl felt at a complete loss, trying really hard to understand what her grandfather was telling her.

"I-I mean, it's not like we Ricks like having Mortys hanging around us. We just need a Morty so that their idiot-brainwaves are camouflaging our genius waves! And while your brainwaves might work like that, too, there's no way that I'm going to take YOU with me on my adventures! I'd rather risk my life and go without camouflage."

'B-but why?' Morticia wanted to ask.

She felt like none of what Rick had said was an explanation as to why he didn't want her around.  
He only said just because she wasn't a "Morty". So does that mean that the problem was because she was born as a girl instead of a boy?  
Was that it?

Before she could even demand a proper answer from him, Rick turned back to his project at the workbench and dismissed her with "And now get out of my garage!"

It was obvious that he would just ignore her now no matter what she did or asked, so Morticia gave up and left the garage.

* * *

Mortys.  
Morticia couldn't help but wonder about it. In most other dimensions, her alternate selves were boys that were called Morty, huh?  
Out of curiosity, she went to her mother and asked her if she had been a boy, what her parents would have named her.

"It's funny that you ask because we were actually expecting a boy and had the name Mortimer already. It was quite a surprise that you turned out to be a girl though, so we named you Morticia instead. Not that your dad or I minded it. I like having two girls." Beth answered with a smile.

So, Mortimer Smith.  
That is the one that she should have been but did not became. And that was the reason why her grandfather hated her.  
Just having the answer though wasn't satisfying enough for her.  
There must be something that she could do to fix that, right?  
Then again, it wasn't like she could just become a Morty. Or could she?

Morticia felt like she had a sudden revelation.  
If she could pull off her plan, this whole mess would be fixed and her grandfather could finally like her and take her with him on adventures.  
Naturally, there was no way that she could turn herself into a boy – not without surgery anyways and she would never find a doctor who would operate on the gender of a 14 year-old girl, never mind the costs of that surgery – but she could at least try to come as close to it as possible.

* * *

Morticia set her plan in motion, starting right on the next Saturday early in the morning.  
She skipped breakfast in favor of leaving the house to go to a hair salon.  
The stylist looked at her in slight disbelieve as she told her what kind of cut she wanted, but did it nonetheless.  
She didn't even bat an eyelash as locks upon locks of long brown hair fell all around her to the floor.

After everything was done, she looked into the mirror, looked at the stranger that stared back at her.  
She cast a look at the photo that she had used as reference – a picture that she had found in Rick's room of what she assumed had been his original Morty – and back in the mirror, checking that it indeed looked like it was supposed to.  
She was satisfied.

After that, she walked into a drug store and bought a few bandages.  
There weren't many at home and Rick was practically hogging them with how often he actually got injured on his adventure – even if he did try to hide it from the rest of the family.  
Afterwards she returned home and dashed quickly in her room before anyone could see her.

Once in her room, she stripped of her shirt and bra and pulled the bandages from the small shopping bag.  
With a little struggle, she carefully started to wrap the bandages around her chest in an effort to bind it off.  
It was uncomfortable and probably a tad bit too tightly wrapped, but after she was done and put her t-shirt back on, looking in the mirror, she was satisfied with her appearance.

Now she looked exactly like a Morty.  
Maybe Rick would be able to accept her better like this.

Filled with hope and a tight lump of nervousness in her stomach, she slowly made her way to the garage.  
She knocked briefly and took the grunt that answered her as an invitation to enter the garage.

"What?" Rick asked rudely without looking up.

He was hunched over his workbench and tinkering on one of his devices again.  
Morticia was a bit disappointed that he wasn't looking at her.

"Hey, Rick. I just wanted to ask if you need h-help or something…" she nervously trailed off.

The longer that she stood in the garage being ignored by her grandfather, the more she felt her initial courage waning.

"I don't need any help from a girl." Her grandfather only waved her off, still not looking up from the machinery that he was tinkering with.

Tensely Morticia continued to stand in the garage, looking at her grandfather's back, not willing to just back out even if she was clearly not welcome here.  
As Rick started to curse and fumble wildly for a wrench on his workbench, it fell with a loud clanking-sound to the ground.  
In a flash, Morticia ran over and picked it up, handing the tool back to Rick.

"Thanks…" He grumbled almost inaudibly.

That was the moment when he finally looked at her and his eyes widened.  
Morticia hoped that it was a good sign, but his following words disproved it.

"What the fuck?! What the hell did you do?!"

"I uh… I just…" she wasn't sure what to answer, not having thought about what to tell him in advance when he would question her. "I just wanted to try out a new style… I guess?"

Rick's eyes instantly narrowed and the look of shock on his face was replaced by one of pure rage.  
Before the girl knew what happened to hear, a loud slap resounded in the garage and she found herself sitting on the concrete floor with a stinging cheek.  
Morticia looked up at her grandfather with big, wet eyes and one of her hands was slowly reaching up to place itself on the quickly reddening and swelling cheek.  
Rick's hand was still lifted in the air as he looked darkly down at her.

"Dammit, Morticia! Stop trying to be something that you are not!" he yelled.

Tears finally spilled as the girl looked in disbelieve at her grandfather.

"B-but I-" she tried to argue back but was cut off.

"No! You just never listen to me, do you?!" Rick slapped her hard again, causing her to land flat and face down on the floor.

He yanked her head up again by gripping tightly into her short curls and moved her so that her ear was directly against his mouth.

"You will never be my Morty! You're never going to be what I want!" spittle was flying from his mouth and splattering her face.

Then he threw her back on the ground again before he sat down in his swivel chair.

"And now get out of here! You know that I don't want you in here."

Still in pain and with a swollen face, she slinked out of the garage. As soon as the door was closed behind her and she leaned against it, tears trailing down her red cheeks, she could hear her grandfather cursing loudly.

"Fuck! Fuck! Fuck!"

There was a loud crash as if he had swiped everything from his workbench on the ground in anger.

"Why does she have to do this to me?!"

Morticia didn't understand.  
What had she done? Just what was it that she was doing wrong…?

* * *

And then Rick was just gone.  
He had been up and left in his trashy space ship, going on one of his crazy adventures without saying a word.

No one worried about it. After all, it wasn't all that unusual that he was sometimes gone for several weeks without a sign of him that he was still alive and kicking.  
However, Morticia had a feeling. A feeling that something bad had happened to her grandfather.

She was sure that he wasn't going to return, but she couldn't voice her thoughts aloud. It would break her mother's heart if she did, the woman becoming quickly a nervous wreck with each passing day while trying to convince herself that her father hadn't abandoned her again and would surely come back.

Days continued to pass. Then weeks. Eventually they turned into months and still no sign of Rick.  
Beth had a breakdown by now thinking for sure that he left her for good.  
Morticia wanted to comfort her, telling her that it surely wasn't her mother's fault that he didn't come back, but she just couldn't find the right words.  
A little part inside her was blaming herself – thinking that she was the reason why he didn't return.

One day however, when Morticia was lingering around in the garage as she used to do every so often after school, a green, swirling portal suddenly opened up.  
Her hair had already grown a considerable amount back by now and she wore her red hairband again.  
Rick stepped through the portal and Morticia looked with big eyes at him.  
Something was off…

"Oh. H-hey there, Morti." Rick greeted her with a twitching smile as he spotted the girl, trying to hide a look of surprise.

She immediately knew what was off.

"You-you're not my Rick." It wasn't a question, it was a statement.

Rick smiled apologetically at her…

* * *

It seemed that aside from Morticia no one noticed that this Rick wasn't the Rick that belonged to this dimension – not that the one that had been here before had really belonged here either.  
Summer seemed to have noticed that he was different and probably figured it out but didn't say anything.  
Beth was overjoyed to have her father back, her mental state stabilizing enough that she didn't need to drown her worry and self-hatred in red wine anymore – she just drank as much as was considered normal for an alcoholic like her.

Everything seemed to be back to normal even though the Rick that was now here was a replacement.  
However, even if he was a different Rick, it didn't mean that it made things worse.

"Hey, Morti. Wanna go on an adventure together? You know on planet Glurbah in the Algamflorx Galaxy are plants that only grow every 500 years and they're in bloom right now. Do you have any idea how much money we gonna make when we harvest and sell these babies? It's gonna be great!"

"Huh?" she looked at her grandfather in surprise. "Are-are you really sure that you want to take me with you?"

Rick looked at her surprised. "Of course! It wouldn't be a classical Rick and Morty adventure without you."

"But I'm not a Morty. I'm only a Morticia…" she mumbled and walked off, leaving her grandfather standing in the garage, stunned.

* * *

It was just another normal morning in the Smith household.  
Beth was serving breakfast as the family members, one after the other, trickled into the room to take a seat at the table.  
Rick was the last one to walk into the room.

"Uh…Dad?" Beth carefully asked as she looked at him.

"Hmm? What is it, sweetie?" he casually asked back.

"Um…" she fumbled how to properly word her question. "Why do you suddenly have boobs, Dad?"

The question drew the attention of the other family members immediately to Rick.

"What the heck, Grandpa Rick?!" Summer shouted as she almost dropped her phone.

Moriticia also stared at him with wide eyes and at a loss for words. Her facial expression was matching the one that was on her dad's face.

"Hey, you have boobs, too. Why can't I have them? What's the-what's the problem with that?" Rick commented as if it was no big deal.

"Well…" Beth wanted to start but then decided to just dismiss it. "…I guess you're right. Please dig in before the pancakes get cold."

Everyone quickly overcame their shock at Rick's new appearance and continued their breakfast as if everything was normal. Everyone, but Morticia.  
She still stared at her grandfather with a gaping mouth, taking in his transformation.  
He still wore his off-white lab coat and a blue sweater, but underneath it were two round, bouncy spheres that pressed against the cloth noticeably enough.  
His boobs were huge – they were at least a double D size – and Morticia couldn't help but think that he completely overdid it. She didn't dare to say it aloud though.

However, as he turned around to her and winked with a friendly smile, it finally dawned on Morticia why Rick had done such a ridiculous thing.  
It was because he cared about her – unless her last Rick – and wanted to show her that she didn't need to be ashamed of her gender.  
He would be supporting her whether she was a Morty or a Morticia.  
She realized all that even before Rick confirmed it for her verbally later in the garage.

In that moment, she made a vow to herself.  
Morticia vowed that she would try everything in her might to never disappoint her grandfather.

* * *

AN:

So, this was Morticia's background story. I hope that her personality and the reason why she's so antagonizing to / competing with her male counterpart in "The Lines Between Ricks And Mortys" as well as why she's pushing herself so hard for Rick, has become more understandable with this.  
Of course, how she ended up in the wild and what had happened to her last Rick is still a mystery…


	2. Chapter 2: Shadow Morty

AN: Again, please read chapter 3 of "The Lines between Ricks and Mortys" first.  
The backstory of Shadow Morty.

Warnings: violence, gore, character death, angst, misunderstandings (it's not a happy backstory)

* * *

**The Mortys and their Stories – Chapter 2: Shadow Morty**

He was looking around, not knowing where he was. He wasn't even sure if he knew who he was.  
Everything was such a blur – happened so long ago – the memories having almost faded completely…

"C'mon, Morty. Try harder!" he could hear a voice from not very far away.

Morty. He recognized that name. That was his name, wasn't it?  
Yes, his name was Morty. He remembered.

_"C'mon, Morty. It won't take long. We're just gonna be in and out. Half hour tops." The voice of an old man told him excitedly._

_The man was dragging him to a weird vehicle, which looked like it was made out of trashcans and other garbage.  
He got into the passenger seat and buckled up while the other sat down in the driver's seat and started the car.  
With an abnormal familiarity, Morty watched through the windshield how they ascended into the sky and soon left earth's atmosphere to travel through the vastness of space…_

Morty was drawn out of his memory as he heard a voice that sounded like it belonged to him. Yet, he wasn't the one that was talking.  
It came from over where he had heard the voice of the man before.

"No. Can't we just stop? I don't want to do this anymore, Rick."

Rick… that name was also familiar…  
Yes, it was that man's name. The man from his memory. His grandfather.  
Yet, while nothing inside that memory gave him a bad association with that man, the name caused feelings of anger, of hatred and… of betrayal.  
Unbeknownst to the specter, his white eyes had changed their color to a bright, dangerous red.

_They ran.  
Something had gone wrong. Red lights were blinking and a siren sounded – an alarm.  
And they both ran. Rick and he.  
They were followed by creatures – aliens – that were armed and shooting at them.  
He wasn't exactly sure what happened then, but he heard Rick murmuring a curse and then he was shoved to the side, landing in some sort of alcove._

_"Stay there!" was all that his grandfather had said._

_Then Rick changed directions and ran another way and he could only look after his grandfather's retreating back as he left him behind.  
He had abandoned him… he had abandoned him so he could safe his own skin!  
Ricks were selfish bastards who thought that Mortys were replaceable and only cared about themselves!_

An inhuman screech erupted from Shadow Morty and he charged at the image of his grandfather.

"What the fuck?! No nO NO! WAIT!" the Rick yelled in surprise.

Nothing he said stopped the specter though.  
The Rick's Morty only screamed in horror as he watched his grandfather being lifted up in the air by shadowy limbs that looked like tendrils and then was ripped apart.  
Shadow Morty crushed the body of the scientist till it was nothing more than an unrecognizable, bloody lump of flesh.

His eyes returned to their glowing white and as he looked over to his mirror image, he saw that the boy had fainted.  
The specter didn't pay him any mind. He had to do something. Look for something.

Right. He was looking for something, but what was it again?  
He kept looking at the unconscious Morty who laid still and unmoving on the ground, hovering over him.

_Of course, he didn't want to be left behind.  
Did Rick think that he could just leave Morty here possibly as a distraction for those aliens who had been chasing them?  
He would have none of that.  
Morty scrambled to get to his feet and tried to dash after Rick. However, he didn't get very far.  
It was probably very stupid of him to not check first because he ran practically in the hands of the aliens._

_He was shot – first in the shoulder then in his legs – and he stumbled to the ground.  
The aliens didn't seem to be ones for taking prisoners because instead of arresting him, they just continued to shoot as he laid on the ground and they stood over him._

He had died, hadn't he? There was no way that he could have survived that…  
Shadow Morty looked down on himself. He was nothing more than a floating shade.  
He had no physical form just swirling shadows that somewhat resembled the form that he used to have when he was still a living, breathing human being.

"M-my body…"

Where was it? Where was his body?  
Maybe if he found it something could still be done. He didn't know what though.  
Was he hoping that he could just go back into his body and be alive again?  
Or, did he think that he would be able to pass over to the afterlife or whatever was supposed to be there after you died?  
He didn't know. Wasn't sure what to expect. But he wanted to find his body – needed to find it!

So, he hovered away again, leaving the mangled corpse of a Rick and his fainted Morty behind as if they meant nothing. As if nothing of what had happened back then mattered.  
Because it simply didn't matter.

And still it wasn't just his body that he was looking for.  
Whether he was aware of it or not, he was also seeking out Rick – his Rick.  
Not necessarily to rip him into pieces like he had done with the other Rick, but to ask him.  
'Why? Why did you abandon me?'

* * *

Of course, Morty couldn't know. Didn't know that his grandfather hadn't abandoned him.  
Not back then and also not now.

Somewhere far off was a Rick. A dead Rick.  
His ghost was sitting in a corner, clutching at a photograph of his grandson.

"Don't give up, Morty… I know that you can make it… at least you must survive… be better than me, Morty…" he mumbled over and over again.

He was aware of the fact that he was dead. But he didn't care about that.  
His thoughts were all with his Morty of whom he hoped that he had made it out alive.  
He wasn't aware of how much time had passed since then. Not aware that his grandson hadn't made it that day.

_Rick had been running together with Morty from the Alferians.  
They were pretty pissed off because they had just tried to steal a compound that Rick had needed as a source of energy for a new weapon that he wanted to make.  
Of course, something had to go wrong and his grandson had successfully triggered the alarm with one clumsy move of his._

_So, they were trying to escape from the building, the armed aliens right on their heels and shooting at them.  
Rick wasn't stupid. He knew that the Alferians would shoot to kill. If they would get to them, they wouldn't hesitate to kill them on the spot.  
They just needed to get to the ship before that happened._

_Rick saw that a shutter opened at the side and knew that more Alferian soldiers were just waiting to charge at them and they wouldn't be able to get passed them even though this way was the direct escape route.  
Cursing under his breath, he realized now that there was probably no way for both of them to escape – not alive.  
So, he made the only choice that felt right to him at this moment._

_He grabbed Morty's arm and shoved him into a small alcove on the side. If the Alferians would follow him, they would probably not see the boy as long as he stayed put and then after they were gone, he could flee.  
So, he ordered Morty to stay there, hoping he would understand the plan without him having the time to explain it to him as he dashed back and around another corner, trying to lure all their enemies at once after him. He had to keep it up long enough till his grandson could make it to the ship and out of here._

_Trying to grasp at all the straws that he had, he fumbled for his portal gun and hoped that he somehow would be able to put a far enough distance between himself and his followers so that he could open a portal and escape to safety. And then maybe even back to the ship if Morty hadn't started it up yet. However, at the rate this was going he saw no chance when to use it._

_The plasma bullets that were shot from the Alferian riffles rained through the air and several kept grazing his arms and shoulders, but Rick wasn't willing to give up.  
Only after one shot pierced through his chest did he start to stumble.  
It slowed him down and so more shots were able to hit their target._

_More and more bullet holes appeared, the blood staining his white lab coat, blue sweater and brown slacks.  
Rick still tried to push himself, but he already knew that he was done for.  
The only thing that he could still do was to try to buy as much time for Morty as he possibly could._

_One of the stray bullets eventually hit his portal gun, destroying the green bulb on top of it.  
With that his last hope, his only chance of escape had been shattered and his fate was sealed._

_Finally, he collapsed on the ground and the Alferians went in for the kill, surrounding and shooting mercilessly at the unmoving human.  
Then green portals opened all of sudden around the squad of Alferian soldiers and in a mess of blasts, the aliens were all shot down.  
Rick Guards had emerged from those portals and began to check the Rick's corpse._

_"Confiscate his broken portal gun." One who seemed to be of a higher rank ordered._

_After the Citadel detected an anomaly in space-time thanks to the destroyed portal gun, his unit had been immediately dispatched to take care of the problem.  
As he looked around the area, he quickly noticed that something was clearly amiss._

_Addressing a small squad of four guards, he ordered. "You go and look for his Morty. He must be somewhere around here still."_

_While the Rick Guards dutifully swarmed out to look for the boy, the rest of the soldiers started to drag the Rick's body through a portal to later dispose of him.  
It was the purpose of the Citadel of Ricks to ensure the safety of all Ricks throughout the multiverse and as such, it was also their task to make sure that no information about Rick-related technology would ever spread to third authorities especially not to the Galactic Federation.  
That was the reason why they had to clean up this scene thoroughly.  
Also, they would pick up the Mortys of dead Ricks so that they could put them into the reassignment program so other Ricks who had lost their Morty could get a new one._

_"What a mess…" commented the Rick Guards that had finally found the Morty that they were supposed to be looking for._

_They stood around the bloodied corpse looking with little to no affection down on it.  
Who knew how many dead Mortys they had already seen throughout the time that they served in the Citadel's Military._

_Since they knew that they weren't supposed to leave any evidence behind, they opened a portal and also dragged the Morty's body through it to later dispose of it.  
He would not receive a proper burial as he would have deserved, but more likely just a quick trip to the incinerator before they would throw his ashes into the dimension where the Citadel dumped all its trash._

_The guards couldn't know that someone was still looking for it…_

* * *

At first when he came to, Morty didn't know where he was.  
He couldn't even retell for a moment who he was or what he had just done a moment ago.  
A loud yelp escaped him as he looked down and saw the bloody body of a boy.

'That's me.' He realized after a few seconds of staring in shock.

It was only then that he noticed that he was floating above his own corpse.  
He took in the sight of his translucent body – a form that was not really physical, but looked exactly as he did when he was still alive, albeit completely see-through now and lacking his feet and legs. Not that he needed those seeing as he was just floating above the ground without the need to touch it in order to move around.

He then recalled what had happened.  
The aliens got him and shot him. That was the last that had happened.  
But what was before that? He had been running and then been shot, but why did he run? Why did he not see the aliens who were able to hit him then?  
Right, he was running after someone.

"Rick!"

Ghostly Morty looked around in a panic, trying to remember in which direction he had seen his grandfather run off.  
Even if he was dead now, he still needed to find him.  
Maybe he wouldn't be able to fix him – Rick had said before that he can't cure death – but at least he wanted an answer from him.  
He wanted to know how he could just abandon him like that.  
And he wanted Rick to know what had happened to him. Wanting to weigh down on that little bit of conscience that must be somewhere inside the old man with the fact that Morty was dead now because of him. Because of his actions.

And so Morty floated off, trying to look for Rick.  
Unfortunately, he wasn't able to find him – not in time anyways.  
Eventually, he gave up and decided to just suck it up and return to his body to pass on or whatever.

What did it matter that he'll let Rick know what had happened to him?  
The scientist probably wouldn't even bat an eyelash. He could just imagine that uncaring face before he would be off to the Citadel and just get himself a new – a living – Morty.

Even though it kind of hurt to think about it – though he couldn't pinpoint where exactly it hurt since he didn't have a physical body that could feel pain anymore – he knew that it was the truth.  
That was just how Ricks were in the end and why should he think that his Rick was any different from that.

He managed to find the hallway that he passed after he left his body behind, but when he came to the spot—

"It's gone!"

His body was gone. There was only a large puddle of dried blood, the only proof that he was indeed at the right place and didn't just confuse locations.  
But how could that be? His dead body couldn't have just stood up and walked away.

Someone must have taken it!  
Frantically he looked around, but couldn't find any trace of who had taken his corpse away or where it was taken to.

He had been wandering around the place, killing all the aliens that he had encountered on his way in hopes of them getting frightened enough of him to return his missing body, but he had no such luck.  
He kept wandering through the building, all over the planet, through the universe, even moved between dimensions somehow.  
And the more he wandered aimless through space and time, the more he started to loose of himself.

He started to lose his memories – slowly, one by one without him even noticing – and his ghostly appearance started to fade away to a mass of shadows.  
Shadows that had been fueled by his disappointment in his Rick, the anger he felt from having been abandoned and left to die alone, the hopelessness of not being able to find what he was looking for.  
In the end, he was merely a shadow of his former self, wandering forever lost through the dimensions until he would find something that did not exist anymore.


	3. Chapter 3: Super Morty Fan Morty

AN: As always, it's advised to read chapter 4 of "The Lines between Ricks and Mortys" first.

Warnings: surprisingly none for this chapter despite the Morty that it is about (other than that it is kind of lame as far as background stories go)

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**The Mortys and their Stories – Chapter 3: Super Morty Fan Morty**

The first time that Morty met his grandfather, he had been confused by the man.  
Rick had been so delighted – excited – to finally meet him.  
Why that was, was something that Morty hadn't understood for a long while.

At first, the boy had been a bit weirded out by the scientist since his grandfather treated him as if he was some kind of celebrity.  
He wore a ski hat that had the form of Morty's head, some badges on his lab coat that looked like his head or had a big red 'M' in front of a yellow background and a t-shirt that also had his face on it. There was also a red dazzler with a big 'M' around his neck, a yellow belt buckle also in the shape of an 'M' and he had a doll that looked like him that spoke weird sentences in a recorded voice that sounded very much like Morty's.  
Morty truly didn't understand why his grandfather did that or where he even got all of his _merchandise_.

However, after a short time, he stopped caring about that.  
He actually enjoyed all the attention that he got from the crazy scientist, being the only one that was invited to come along on his adventures.  
Usually Morty had been below average and aside from the school bullies no one had ever paid him any attention – not even his own family.  
So, obviously, he was overjoyed to have finally found someone that he considered as a friend, albeit a crazy one that was a hell 'a lot older than he was, but he wasn't one to nitpick about something like that.

Things however began to change drastically when his Rick brought him to the Citadel of Ricks for the first time.  
It was finally at that point that Morty understood where his grandfather had gotten the merchandise but not only that.  
He was met with the realization that his grandfather wasn't the only Rick there was, but that there were plenty different versions of him throughout the entire multiverse and so many of them were gathered here in this one place.

However, this was only something that he took notice of one the side because even more he realized that there were also many different versions of himself.  
Normally, one would expect that the boy might have felt offended about this, seeing himself so often that he would feel like he was insignificant and nothing special, but that was not the case.  
In fact, he was in awe as he saw all the many other versions of himself.

While most of the Mortys looked exactly the same as him, there were also ones who looked completely different.  
Like the Aqua Morty who looked like a fish and had to wear a helmet with water inside it so that he could actually breathe on land.  
Or the Cyclops Morty who had orange skin, pointed ears and only a singular eye – he actually looked a bit intimidating and dangerous.  
The Robot Morty looked also very interesting.  
And there was even a Morty whose head was in the shape of a hammer.

"Woah! There are so many of them and all they're all different!" Morty said to his grandfather with starry eyes.

His Rick could only grin and agree.  
It was at this point that Morty himself became a fan of Mortys because even though they were essentially the same as him, he thought that they were really awesome and cute.  
He completely fell in love with them. Loving every chance that he got to interact with them. Also loving to just watch them.

So, from this moment on, he also started to dress himself in a similar fashion as his grandfather:  
He wore a hat in the form of a Morty head, a backpack in similar shape on which he put all of his badges that he bought on the Citadel and a t-shirt with a Morty's face on it. A similar red dazzler to that of his grandfather hung also around his neck, he also wore the same 'M'-shaped belt buckle and he even thought about getting himself a fancy tattoo, but so far only drew 'MORTY' and a heart on his stomach and abdomen.  
Morty and his Rick seemed to have gotten even closer than before, having now something to talk about excitedly the entire time like all the different looks or lifestyles that Mortys from other dimensions could have.

Of course, those new changes didn't go unnoticed by the rest of his family for long.  
Especially as Jerry found one questionable fanart that the boy had drawn – he had started to actively draw and write fanfictions, too – his parents knew that they had to do something.

"I don't know what we should do with him, Beth! Probably admit him to a mental hospital or something because what he does is anything but healthy!" Morty could overhear his father yelling.

It wasn't rare that his parents argued with each other, but it was one of the rare times that he was the topic of their argument and they somewhat agreed that things were not okay with him.

"A mental hospital, Jerry?! Really?!" his mother argued back. "I don't think that it's that serious that we need to look for medical help. Maybe we can just try to talk with him."

"_Not that serious_?! Have you even looked at the picture that he had drawn?!" was the counter argument. "The boy is narcissistic! A little friendly talk won't just fix that magically! This probably would have never happened if he wouldn't hang out so much with your crazy father!"

"Keep my dad out of this!"

"No, if anyone is at fault that our son has developed such a weird tendencies than it's Rick's!" His father thundered and didn't let his mother get another word in. "We should have never allowed him to stay with us! It's only because of your fucked up father complex! You're probably not even going to care when the old weirdo ends up sexually molesting or even raping our son, do you?!"

Morty had heard enough.  
He was just fed up with everything. He was fed up with his parents trying to stage an intervention – even wanting to go so far as to lock him up in a loony bin.  
And on top of that they wanted to place the entire blame on his grandfather and would try to kick him out of the house now.  
His brilliant Rick who had opened his eyes to a whole new world – a whole new level of existence even!  
No, he wouldn't stand for this anymore.

Morty felt actually a little bad for what he was about to do, but he didn't have any other options.  
He had packed his Morty backpack to the brim with snacks, his block and pencils for drawing his fanart and some of the Morty merchandise that he was able to fit inside.  
It was in the middle of the night that he secretly snug in the garage. His grandfather had fallen asleep in front of the TV so he knew that it was save to go in there without getting interrupted or stopped by anyone.

The boy grabbed his grandfather's portal gun, which rested innocently on top of the workbench. He put in one of the view coordinates that he had memorized – the ones that would bring him to the Citadel of Ricks.  
Maybe it wasn't the wisest choice and Morty knew that his grandfather would know where he went from the coordinates, but then again since it was the Citadel, maybe he wouldn't find him so easily.

Opening a portal against the wall of the garage, Morty put the gun back where he picked it up.  
Slowly he moved closer to the rip in space and time that presented itself visibly as a swirling green vortex.  
Morty took one last look back towards the door.  
He really felt bad for what he was about to do. Not because of leaving his parents and sister behind, but because he was leaving his Rick despite knowing how much the man loved him.

It had to be done though. In Morty's mind this was the only option to protect them both.  
So, he faced the portal again, took a deep breath and then walked through it.  
The portal closed, leaving no trace behind that it was ever there to begin with.

It would take a long while before anyone in the house would rose from their slumber.  
It would take an even longer while before anyone would notice that Morty was gone.  
And it would take even longer before Rick would notice that his portal gun had been used.  
But who knew how long it would take before he would find his boy again… if he ever would.


	4. Chapter 4: Judge Morty

AN: And the last Morty's background story. Since this is Judge Morty, this is supposed to happen after the animation.  
…Not proud about this one either, to be honest…

Warnings: rape/non-con, oral and anal

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**The Mortys and their Stories – Chapter 4: Judge Morty**

It was already late and the sun was slowly setting as the judge sat in his office and looked over some papers.  
People always thought that it was such a great job to be a judge. You get paid lots of money for overseeing a trial, sitting on your high and mighty chair.

What those people often did not see, was all the knowledge about laws that you need to keep in mind. The weight of needing to have a clear focus on bringing forth justice and leading such a trial fairly. And also enduring the bullshit that some of the defendants felt like throwing at him…disrespectful bastards!

Judge Morty Downey Jr. had to deal with that a lot. Getting threatened by culprits…even if some of those threats hardly made any sense.  
How could it affect him to be threatened with the lives of his children if he hadn't those to begin with? Without a family, his life may be a bit lonely, but at least he wouldn't have to worry about their safety. Not that any of the prisoners ever managed to make those threats come true.

He sighed and sorted the documents, putting them away into a folder and deciding to finally call it a day. At this late hour, he was probably the only one still left in the building…aside from Dave, the guard who would have the nightshift.  
Holy heck! Was it really already this late?!

Deciding to leave the cleaning up to his secretary tomorrow, Judge Morty left the folder on his desk and stood up from his chair. He just wanted to go home now, eat dinner and relax a little bit.  
Turning towards the coat hanger in the corner, he was a little startled but not entirely surprised when the door to his office suddenly opened.

Without turning around, he said, "I'm already on my way out, Dave. Have a nice shift."

Dave did not answer him, but Judge Morty wasn't thinking about that at first. Only after realizing that the other took a little bit too long to answer for it to be normal, did he question it.

"Dave? Are you—" He didn't get to finish asking or turning around, as suddenly he was grabbed from behind.

Long arms wrapped around his body, rendering him mostly immobile and a warm breath ghosted over his ear and cheek as the culprit spoke up. "So we meet again, sir."

The judge's eyes widened, instantly recognizing the voice. "Mr. Allen?!"

"The one and only." Rick Allen replied in a playful tone.

"How?! You should be in prison right now! Not here!"

"Oh, I broke out." The murder convict confessed. "And I'm here to keep my word to you, my dear judge."

A shudder ran through Judge Morty's body. He had not forgotten the trial with this madman.  
And even though the other had been sprouting so much nonsense during it that it had been almost impossible for him to take the man seriously, he hadn't forgotten his threats. No matter how empty they had seemed at the time.

"Well then, I promised to stuff your nasty mouth with my cock, so how about we start with that?" Mr. Allen proposed and forced Morty's arms behind his back, bending them into a painful position.

"You're never going to get through with this, Mr. Allen." The judge warned even though the way the other twisted his arms, forced him slowly to his knees. "You'll get sentenced for life if you try this. This is an assault against a judicial officer! I'll make sure that you'll never see the light of day again!"

The escaped prisoner only chuckled over his threats, this time being the one who wasn't taking the judge seriously.  
With strength that someone like Mr. Allen shouldn't really have, he pulled Judge Morty over and maneuvered him, so that he was pinned against a wall, arms still stuck behind his back.

A far grin was on the older man's face as he used one hand to open his orange overall and pulled out his already half hard dick. "C'mon! Suck it, sir!"

Judge Morty opened his mouth wide and moved his face forward with zero reluctance. The eagerness was probably so suspicious that even the escaped prisoner could tell that something was up.

"Don't think about biting me…" he added before the other could take him into his mouth. "…if you try something funny, I'm gonna blow your brains out."

With those words, he pulled a gun – stolen from Dave after he had knocked the guard unconscious – from the back of his clothes and held it directly at the brunet's head.  
Judge Morty faltered and he halted all movement, suddenly not looking so eager anymore.

"Chop! Chop! Onto it!" Mr. Allen was full of glee.

The escaped prisoner was gloating as the judge hesitantly engulfed his length in his mouth, clearly enjoying having the other where he always had wanted him – on his knees, right in front of him.

With impatience, he watched the rosy lips slowly passing over his shaft and he tried to push Judge Morty's head further down. "Stop being so slow! You better take all of my fat cock down your throat!"

The younger man's face scrunched up, looking repulsed at the entire situation and it didn't help that Mr. Allen was forcing himself deeper into his oral cavity. The taste and the strong musky scent were just disgusting and he felt as if he wanted to throw up right now.  
He began to cough around the length as the tip hit the back of his throat, but the culprit didn't let up.

"Ha ha! Yeah! Choke on my dick, you little bitch!" The escaped convict cheered. "Told ya that I have a huge cock. Just think about what I'm going to do to your little pale ass with it in a little while."

A sound of protest escaped from the judicial officer and he tried to struggle against the other, who held his head down, forcing him to deepthroat.

"Oh, don't do that, sir. I'd hate to add _desecration of a corpse_ to my record. 'Sides, it wouldn't be as fun to fuck you when you're dead." Mr. Allen pressed the barrel of the gun against the side of the judge's head again as a firm reminder.

Morty calmed the slightest bit down, cherishing his life enough to submit even if it was against his own will.

"That's much better."

Without letting go of the gun, he forced the judge's head against the wall, confident that his legs and lower body were enough to keep the other pinned where he was. Then he began to move his hips, slowly fucking Judge Morty's mouth.

Looking down, the tortured face that the other made, only made the whole experience so much more fun and worthwhile for him.

"That's right, you little bitch. Suck my cock." Rick practically purred.

His movements became faster, the slow back and forth turning into powerful thrusts that made the judge's head bump loudly into the wall again and again.  
The jostling motions only made him feel more nauseous than he already did and constant hammering of the hard wall against the back of his head caused him a major headache. If this kept up, he might actually pass out…

"Hmm~ You really have a great mouth, sir. Fuck, it feels fantastic! Better than I imagined…"

Mr. Allen grunted and moaned, his movements becoming sloppy, as he was getting closer to his climax. With one loud groan and a last deep thrust, he emptied inside the other's mouth, his jizz shooting down the judge's throat.

Poor Judge Morty coughed around the still intruding member, but he wasn't let up yet. Rick made sure to savor every lasting second of this, enjoying the sweet bliss and hot mouth on his cock for as long as he dared.

Eventually, he pulled out of the other, but of course, he was far from done yet. "Well then. On your hands and knees now."

Judge Morty looked up at him as if he had grown a second head. "What?!"

"You heard me." Mr. Allen spoke in a warning tone. "I'm still gonna fuck your cracker white ass."

Defiance was written all over the Judge's face, but one wave with the gun made him obedient again. Making a little bit of room, the young man moved away from the wall and got even further down.

Mr. Allen's hand grabbed the hem of the black robe and pulled it up, finding to his delight that the judge wore only garters and plain briefs, but no pants.

"Nice!" He commented before he also pulled down the boringly white underwear, revealing a set of plush globes.

"Would you look at that, sir?" The convict sounded pleased. "Such a nice ass you have. I had no idea. If you had told me sooner, I would have fucked you at the trial already…"

Judge Morty's face was red with shame, but there was little that he could do now. He was still held at gunpoint and would only risk a hole in his head if he stopped complying.  
God! How much he hated feeling this helpless and being at this lunatic's mercy!

If there was only something that could distract the prisoner. Something that would keep him occupied enough that he could bolt and call help.  
However, it didn't look good for him.

'Dammit, Dave! Where are you?' He wondered what had happened to the guard, who he saw as his only chance to get out of this, but seeing how Mr. Allen had gotten inside the building and that the guard hadn't showed up yet, made him worry that he might already be dead…

The culprit cared very little about the judge's current dilemma and kneeled behind him, stroking with one free hand over a round cheek. Then he drew back his hand only to quickly connect with the pale flesh again.  
A loud _slap_ resounded through the room and Judge Morty flinched.

Mr. Allen repeated the action, spanking the cheek five more times until it started to glow. He also hit its counterpart, enjoying the sight of the reddened mounts.  
A tongue trailed over his dry lips as he almost gently stroked over the heated flesh and he couldn't hold back a cackle as he could hear barely repressed whimpers from the smaller.

"Yeah, you like it when daddy gives you a good spanking, you little whore?"

Judge Morty didn't graced him with an answer, but tears already welled up in his eyes. He refused to let them fall though even if Mr. Allen wouldn't be able to see them right now, since he had lowered his face.

The convict didn't seem bothered by the lack of a response and the long fingers of his hand wandered from the soft roundness to the cleft between them, briefly stroking over a rosy pucker. He watched the tiny opening clench up upon contact and was looking forward to burying his cock in it.

Despite his orgasm just a few minutes ago, his member was already hard again and he was ready to go.  
Unceremoniously, he pulled the asscheeks apart and positioned his burgeoning arousal at the entrance. Without any further warnings, he thrusted inside then.

A pained shriek escaped the judge and his muscles locked up, not helping his situation in the least. It felt like he had been stabbed with a knife, his lower region burning and the tears that he held back were now running over his cheeks freely and dripping on the carpet below.

"Shit! You're so tight!" Mr. Allen's moan sounded almost pained as well. "Fuck! Is this the first time you had something shoved up your ass, sir? You're still a virgin? Am I taking your anal virginity?"

Again, Judge Morty refused to answer any of that, but he didn't need to because it was obvious enough and Rick laughed anyways, having the nerve to whoop.  
The judicial officer lowered his head even further, sobbing into the carpet now. Even though he hated to show weakness, it was just getting too much for him now.

Inwardly, he vowed that god may help Mr. Allen because after this whole ordeal was over, he would make him pay!  
Unfortunately, it wasn't over for him yet – the torture had just begun.

Strong hands gripped his hips and Mr. Allen pulled back, the foreign object leaving his anal cavity again. The pulling sensation still burned and his relieve was only short-lived as the other thrust back into him again.  
His hands dug into the carpet as his tormentor repeated his actions, thrusting into him again and again with gaining speed. Going harder and deeper.

Judge Morty muffled his screams by pressing his face more into the ground, almost suffocating himself in the process. He just wanted this to be over with. Just being somewhere else right now. Preferably, in his comfy recliner at home, watching some stupid TV show.  
…just anywhere else than here right now.

However, it didn't seem to end. Every single minute stretching into an eternity as he helpless squirmed underneath his violator.  
No chance to escape. No chance to fight back.  
Only able to endure this pain and humiliation while he had to listen to Mr. Allen's disgusting groans of pleasure again…

Suddenly, a swirling green vortex appeared in the room out of thin air. It caught the attention of both, but as soon as a man stepped out of the portal, all eyes were on him.  
The Rick looked at the scene before him with one raised eyebrow.

"Oh, man. I'm in the weird part of the central finite curve again." He mumbled and looked down at the device that he held in his hand. "I really need to start using a filter when I do random portal hopping like this…"

Seeing his chance since Mr. Allen was unfocused now, Judge Morty threw him off – the unsuspecting tormentor toppling over in surprise and dropping his gun in the process – and he dashed towards the prisoner's twin. No, actually he dashed towards the portal.

"Whoa!" The startled Rick shouted and moved to the side as he saw that Morty dashing at him and then vanishing through the rift in time and space without saying a word.

Both Ricks that were left behind stared in confusion at the swirling vortex, then they locked eyes and looked questioningly at each other.


	5. Chapter 5: Test X Mortys

AN: Okay, so originally this installment was just supposed to give the Mortys that Rick C-137 caught in "The Lines Between Ricks And Mortys" a background story so they get a little character depth (for those of you readers who like that sort of thing), but Rick's team is already complete now.  
But then, I thought 'Well, there's still so many other Mortys and also Ricks in this story that we could also give a little more background to.'  
So, here you have it. This chapter is about Guilty Rick (the first Rick battle we had in the main story) and since it was a little open ended, I thought to shed some more light on him.  
Well, actually we already do have his background story. It's supposed to be the entry that I made for my Ricktober Challenge (chapter 20). So, you could say that this starts right at the end of Guilty Rick's story, but is told now from the Test Mortys' perspective (it's about the Mortys after all).  
Hope, you enjoy!

Warning: this one's sad, bro. And character death(s).

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**The Mortys and their Stories – Chapter 5: Test X Mortys**

_X1_

Morty looked at his grandfather through the glass, the light blue fluid that was surrounding him and the pinkish veil that seemed to hang over his eyes. He didn't understand why the man looked so upset, sitting in his chair, bent over his work table, a skull clutched between his fingers and openly crying.  
The brunet's heart reached out to Rick and he wanted to comfort his relative, but there was little that he could do since he was stuck in this vat and somehow couldn't move his body.

"I'm so sorry, Morty. I'm so sorry." Rick mumbled between pathetic sobs.

The sight almost made Morty cry, too. He wanted to call out to the other, but the only noise that came out – even if he was still surrounded by the surprisingly breathable liquid – was a squeaky-sounding whine.

However, the sound drew Rick's attention to him, who stopped sobbing and stared with wide eyes at him now. Tears were still clinging to his lashes and there were wet trails on his slightly wrinkled cheeks. Morty could see them shimmering like tiny twinkling stars as his grandfather stood up and approached him, leaving the human remains that he had clung to, resting on the table.

Rick put a hand on the glass and a sad smile bloomed on his face. "Don't worry, Morty. I'll find a way. You'll be okay, Morty. It's going to be okay."

While the words were directed at him, it sounded like Rick was less doing it to comfort Morty, but rather like he was trying to reassure himself…

* * *

Morty looked with curiosity at the vat. He had been out of the glass tank that he had been stuck in for a few weeks now.

Inside that other tube was a project that his grandfather had been working on for a while, but only now did he really notice what was inside it.

It looked like a Morty, but it looked weird. Like an underdeveloped human. While the container was filled with a light blue liquid, the other Morty was encased in some pink jelly-like substance.

At least he thought that it was pink. It was a bit hard for him to tell because his vision was still constantly surrounded by a soft rosy hue. But he thought that it was the same color that hung like a veil in front of his eyes.

He wondered what that thing was supposed to be. Was Rick trying to replace him?  
He hoped not.

However, he noticed that his grandfather who stood next to the container and had put his hand on the glass – not very unlike how he had done when Morty himself had been in a similar confinement – looked disappointed. Did this weird experiment fail him?  
Morty didn't know, but he wanted to cheer Rick up.

He emitted a squeak, hating that he found himself unable to properly speak. Morty didn't know why he couldn't. He had hoped that his grandfather would be able to fix it, but instead of trying to help Morty, the man had been far too busy with this new project of his…

Rick looked over to him as he heard the noise and smiled sadly. "Looks like I won't be able to finish this project. It's such a shame that I completely ran out of money now…"

Morty made another small squeak. While it was certainly sad that Rick would have to abandon one of his projects because of his financial situation, he didn't understand why his grandfather looked this upset about it.  
It was just a stupid Morty clone project, wasn't it? Why did Rick even need to do that? He still had him. Wasn't that enough?

As if sensing how upset Morty was, Rick walked over to him and held him in his arms. Softly, gently, as if he was his most precious possession, as if he was so fragile that he just might break if he so much as breathed on him.

"You're right, Morty. I'm sure that we can find a way to make it work."

* * *

"Morty, please be careful." He heard Rick's worried voice behind himself, but he couldn't turn around to him right now.

If he would, he might lose the battle and he couldn't afford to do that. Not only would it hurt – more than he was hurting right now – but he also knew that it would make Rick upset.

His grandfather always looked so miserable, so he wanted to do good. Win this battle and make him proud and happy again.

With as much force as he could muster, he rammed into the other Morty. It knocked his opponent out and signified his victory.  
However, his body still hurt. Hurt from the hits that it took before. Hurt from the impact he just had with his enemy.

He felt weak now. Drained. But it was okay.  
His grandfather was instantly at his side. Hugging him. Holding him in his arms.

"You did so well, Morty." He praised.

Yet there was still only a sad smile on his face and wetness rising in the corners of his eyes.

Morty did not understand it. He wanted Rick to be happy. He had thought that he could make him happy if he won.  
But looking more closely, he thought that he saw a twinkle in his grandfather's eyes. A small shine of elation. And Morty knew that it was all worth it.

However, that small glow vanished quickly and Rick's face fell as he looked Morty over.

"I'm sorry that you got hurt again, Morty." He said, his voice full of regret as it was so often.

No. Morty didn't want the happiness to be gone.  
He wanted to tell Rick that he was fine even if he wasn't. He wanted to tell him to cheer up again. He wanted to say that he was happy in this moment that his grandfather was cradling him so gently and tried to do so…but the only noise that came out was a pathetic squeak.

However, he hoped that Rick would understand. Hoped that Rick would be able to see it on his face even though Morty was sure that his facial features didn't change - couldn't change even though he didn't know why. He hoped that Rick would be able to see it in his eyes. See the bright smile that he felt on the inside, but was unable to express to the outside.

However, Rick didn't look at him anymore.  
His grandfather had averted his eyes, a look of shame on his face as he began to carry Morty back to the Morty Healing Center.

* * *

Morty looked slightly disappointed at the vat. The weird Morty's eyes had just opened for the first time. Not a second later, it emitted a loud pitiful wail.

Morty didn't know what to think of it. He was pretty sure that he didn't like this weird clone thing. At least, at first. On the other hand, he started to feel so sorry for it now.

The clone Morty clearly looked like he was in pain. Probably the same pain that Morty himself always felt. Maybe it was even worse. Or, maybe it wasn't and he was just being theatrical about it.  
Morty didn't know. Couldn't know since he wasn't the other Morty.

He distantly watched the interactions between his grandpa and the clone, still not sure what to think of it.

* * *

The clone Morty wasn't so bad, he decided. He was weird, but not bad. Not exactly likeable, but not bad.

He had worried that Rick would try to replace him with this other Morty, but he didn't. His grandfather still took care of him. Even if his attention was being divided between the two of them now.  
But, it was okay, his grandfather still cared for him. Still held him gently at night, rocking back and forth with him as if he wanted to coax them both into falling asleep. Still, cried miserably and whispered apologies to him over and over again even if Morty never understood what he apologized for.

"It's still not enough. This research is just so goddamn expansive." Rick sighed and groaned. "I guess we have to go back again and continue with the battles, Morty."

Morty thought that he finally understood what the clone was for. Rick made the other Morty battle in those fights through which they won money.  
Of course, Morty would still also fight, but it seemed like he didn't need to do it so often anymore.

For how weird the other Morty was, he was pretty strong. But also a sniveling one.  
He was often screeching, easily wailing in pain. And he was hungry. Constantly hungry and wanting food.

It made Morty wonder if this clone Morty wasn't the reason why his grandfather was in such a financial crisis. Why did Rick bother creating him for these battles when he required so much food? So much money.  
It seemed counterproductive.

But it was okay.  
The clone Morty wasn't so bad.

* * *

"Oh, nonono, Morty. You don't have to do it. We can forfeit this battle."

He heard his Rick, but he was determined. They wouldn't lose this battle. Even if the clone Morty lost, he wasn't about to give up.  
He needed to win. He needed to get the money for his grandfather. He needed to make Rick happy.

He faced the other Morty who looked like himself – or at least Morty thought so, but couldn't help and notice that the other looked taller than him. Or maybe it was him that was smaller?

It was something that he noticed often when fighting against other Mortys. It made him wonder if there was something different about him.  
Sure, he was unable to speak, but that didn't explain why he felt so physically small in comparison to other Mortys – even the ones that were "generic".

There was also this constant pink vail in his vision. It was confusing at first, but something that he had gotten used to.

However, there was also something else off. Something about his body that felt weird.  
It was as if he couldn't move around as freely as before. He also wasn't able to use his hands like he used to. But he never gave it too much thought, not wanting to worry about something that he couldn't help and work himself into an anxiety attack over basically nothing.

He was able to function like this. He's been living like this for a while. And his grandfather had been taking care of him, helping where Morty couldn't do things himself.  
And there was also the constant hope that Rick would fix it one day. Rick would fix him. He just couldn't do it now. He didn't had the money to make it happen right now. That's why he kept apologizing to Morty each night, right?

It was okay though. Morty would win this battle, would win them the money and Rick would fix him. If he won enough, if they got enough money, Rick would fix it.

As determined as he could be, he stared at his enemy. He could sense that the opposing Morty didn't want to fight, but it didn't matter. All the better for him then.

However, before he could even begin to attack the other, the opposing Morty was fed up by the insults that were thrown at him from his own Rick. He snapped and attacked Morty instead. Raging like a wild, uncontrolled beast.

And it hurt and hurt and hurt. Hurt so much.

He tried begging for the enemy to stop, willing to admit defeat. But it didn't stop. Blows continued to rain down on him even though he didn't try to fight back anymore. Didn't try to defend himself.

Again, he tried to tell the other that he gave up, but only a faint squeak came out. His enemy wouldn't be swayed. Was not be able to understand him.

There was only more pain and he wondered if it would ever end.  
_Hurt, hurt, hurt so much. Please, Rick, make it stop._

Just as he thought, he couldn't take anymore, that he would pass out or even die, it suddenly stopped. He tried to blink his swollen eyes open, managing only to do it the slightest bit and the pink hue was gone, replaced by speckles of red and black in his vision.

And suddenly there was Rick's face. He was crying.  
Of course, he was. Morty had lost. He had disappointed his grandfather.

And Rick was apologizing to him again. Even though he shouldn't.  
Morty was the one who lost. He should be the one apologizing to Rick.

He tried to apologize, managing no more than a faint little whine. Not sure if Rick had even heard. But hoping he did. Hoping he understood.

And Rick cradled him, so gently. Like he always did. But it still hurt.  
The pain was still there and even if the beating had stopped, it still hurt so much. He just wanted it to stop. _Just make it all stop._

It hurt so much to breath. Everything just hurt.

He wanted to tell Rick. Tell him in how much pain he was. Asking Rick to make it stop. Make it better. Fix it.

But he couldn't speak anymore. Not even manage a small squeak.  
He wanted to attempt it once more though. Thinking that he just needed to take a deep breath and put everything into that one attempt.

He gasped in a breath, but it wasn't as deep as he wanted to. He was too weak to do any more.  
And before he could even think of trying once again, everything faded away, the sorrowful wail of his grandpa the last sound in his ears…

* * *

_X46_

He was so hungry. So, so hungry.  
And everything hurt. Breathing hurt. Just existing hurt.

Morty looked with pleading eyes at Rick. Remorse was reflected in them. A silent apology was written on his grandfather's face.  
He didn't understand though.

He was just hungry.

He was just in pain.

* * *

Rick gave him food. But it was never sating. Never enough to still his hunger.

Rick did nothing against the pain. Of course, he tried to give him different medications, but nothing ever helped. Sometimes it made the pain worse, but it never made it better.

Rick made him fight. He did not understand why. Fights were hurting, but he was scared that Rick would stop giving him food if he didn't.  
So he kept fighting even if it hurt.

* * *

He was fighting again. They were doing it often.  
The weird little Morty in the pink jelly egg and him. And Rick was always there, too. But he did not fight. It was just the Mortys.  
They called it Morty battles.

He didn't really care about that. All he could think of was how hungry he was. And how much it hurt.

His opponent was a weird Morty. A Morty with long hair and a red hairband. It was probably a girl Morty. He didn't care, only thought about the food that Rick would reward him with when he won. Even though it was never sating. Never enough.

He went to attack the other Morty, but the other Morty was strong and attacked back. His opponent was stronger than all the others that he had faced before.  
He didn't care about that, only thought about how much it hurt. _God, it hurt._

His opponent didn't stop. Didn't stop until he felt himself unable to fight back anymore.  
And it only hurt and hurt and hurt so much.

But Rick didn't make him fight anymore. He told him that it was okay, but it wasn't.  
'Cause it hurt and hurt and hurt.

* * *

He looked at Rick, wondering what he was doing. They just came from the Healing Center that was supposed to fix him. At least make him stop hurting, but he never stopped hurting. And he was so hungry. Still so hungry. When would Rick finally give him food?

He screeched at Rick, trying to remind him that he was there. And that he was hungry.

But Rick didn't have eyes for him.

His grandfather was cradling the other Morty in his arms. The pink jelly egg around him was dissolved and he wasn't moving.

The Rick at the Healing Center said probably something like that they couldn't fix the weird Morty. He didn't quite remember. He didn't care.

"I'm so, so sorry, my little Morty." Rick mumbled.

The tears that fell from his face landed on the unmoving Morty in his arms.

Morty didn't care. He just wanted food from Rick.  
So, he made another screech. It finally caught his grandfather's attention.

Rick turned to look at him, smiling apologetically at him, wet streaks on his slightly wrinkled cheeks.  
Morty didn't care about the tear tracks. He just wanted food.

"I'm so sorry, Morty. I failed you again." Rick said in a broken voice. "I guess it's just not meant to be. I'm not cut out to take proper care of you."

He looked down again, at the other Morty. "What's even the point now? I didn't get anything useful done in all this time. The only thing I do is keep messing up."

Rick's sad eyes were back on Morty now again. "I only cause you grief and pain. I'm so sorry for being such a—such a f—that your grandpa is such a fuck up, Morty. You shouldn't have to deal with this."

He reached out with a hand towards the mouth of the alley that they currently stood in. "You should just leave. You're strong. I'm sure that you'll quickly find a new Rick that will take you in. G-Going to catch you and take care of you. And if he's using one of those chips on you, you won't even notice the difference."

Morty looked at Rick. He didn't understand. Where was the food?

Rick's smile looked like a horrible grimace as he wildly waved his hand as if trying to shoo Morty off. "Go! Go already!"

Morty was irritated. He tried to grasp what Rick wanted from him.  
He moved a little towards the end of the alley, looking back to check if this was what his grandfather wanted.

Rick nodded encouragingly at him, but still kept waving with his free hand, indicating for him to move even further away.

Morty didn't know why he was supposed to do that. But he kept moving, thinking that Rick would reward him with food again if he did.

He moved all the way, till he was out of the alley. But he didn't went further.  
He halted just around the corner and waited. Waited for Rick to come and reward him. To give him food now because he finally did good again.

"I'm so sorry, Morty. I will never be able to forgive myself for what had happened to you. This is all my fault."

Morty heard the words faintly, but didn't react to it. He kept waiting patiently, right around the corner.

The next sound that reached his ears was a gunshot.

He could hear it clearly this time, but didn't react to it. He kept waiting patiently, right around the corner.

He kept waiting and waiting and waiting.  
And he was so hungry, so hungry, so hungry.

It almost seemed like Rick wasn't coming. Rick wasn't coming to give him food even though he did what his grandfather had wanted him to do.  
Or did he do it wrong again?

Driven by his endless, painful hunger, he peeked around the corner, looking back into the alley again.

Rick hadn't run off. He was still there. But instead of standing in the same spot as before, he laid there.

Morty approached him. He looked down at the unmoving body of his grandpa.  
A red puddle was forming underneath him.

Morty didn't understand. He just wanted Rick to finally give him food.  
Because he was hungry. _So, so hungry._

* * *

_…_

Inside Guilty Rick's lab stood a lone vat. Encased by glass, a light blue liquid and a soft sheen of pink jelly floated Morty – Test X72.

He looked far more developed than the previous Test Mortys. Yet he wasn't finished.

His development was too costly for Rick to continue. He had tried to get enough money by going to the Citadel of Ricks and joining the Pocket Morty craze.

He would never be finished now.

Rick's body had turned cold already, laying forgotten in the dark alley where he took his life. Test X46 Morty still at his side, waiting, being in pain, being hungry.

Unbeknownst to him and the rest of the world, the Morty inside the vat opened his eyes for the first time.

* * *

Rick C-137: "See, Morty. I told you it's a subplot that has no relevance to the main story."

Morty C-137: "Oh man, Rick. I still feel bad about this Rick and his Mortys though. I mean he killed himself because of us."

Rick C-137: "No, Morty. Weren't you paying attention? He didn't kill himself because we kicked his ass. He did it because he was a sad and lame excuse for a Rick that just kept failing at life, Morty. And now stop being a sappy idiot about it."

Morty C-137: "Okay, okay, Rick."

* * *

AN: Maybe I went a little overboard with the X46's hunger (in case you're confused, check his Morty deck entry), but somehow it fit too well into this.


End file.
